


Almost isn't Always

by sabbathgoat



Category: Mötley Crüe, The Dirt (2019), The Dirt: Confessions of the World's Most Notorious Rock Band Book - Mötley Crüe & Neil Strauss
Genre: Anxiety, Crying, Cuddling, Emotional Hurt, Flashbacks, Hurt/Comfort, Love Confessions, M/M, Nightmares, Panic Attacks, Set in 2008, stressed Nikki is stressed again
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-03
Updated: 2020-02-03
Packaged: 2021-02-28 07:08:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,424
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22539874
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sabbathgoat/pseuds/sabbathgoat
Summary: (Random two part Drabble of Mick/Nikki)Nikki dreams about that time in 2004, and how he almost lost one of the most important people in his screwed up life. Sometimes he just needs to remember that he didn't.
Relationships: Mick Mars & Nikki Sixx, Mick Mars/Nikki Sixx
Comments: 5
Kudos: 30





	1. Dreaming of You

2008

Mick should have known it probably wasn't the best idea to let Nikki come over to his home at this hour. The bassist had called him at 1:34 at night, sounding a little too distant for Mick to hang up comfortably leaving his friend alone across town. Nikki had started with the usual ' _how was your day, how's your back?'_ But Mick cut that shit out quick, getting to the point.

_"What's wrong, Nikki? You woke me up."_ The three second pause sent his heart pounding.

_"Can I come over?"_

Mick agreed, hung up the phone, put a shirt on, and went to the living room to wait. It had been an insanely long time since Nikki had done this, maybe the early 90s, Mick thought. He would flee to his guitarist's house in fear of finding himself in the streets chasing drugs. Mick would always let him in, whether he had a girlfriend staying with him at the time or not. The safety of his young friend would always be more important than any bitch he was with. If they couldn't handle the recovering bassist showing up in disarray, rambling on through withdraws and getting sick in his bathroom, then they could fuck off. They always did anyways.

Nikki arrived in no time, looking more disheveled than he did when he was high on coke. His oversized shorts hung low on his waist in desperate need of a belt, his hair standing on end full of tangles, makeup smeared as if he had tried to put it on in a rush before he came over.

"Hey." The bassist glanced down at the ground.

"Get in," Mick's command came out more gentle than he wanted it to.

"Sorry," Nikki mumbled, more so to himself than his friend. "I just... you know." 

"No, I dont actually. So please tell me why you made me roll out of bed at one in the morning?" Mick took a detour to the kitchen to grab two waters from the fridge, before following Nikki through the darkness to the living room and sitting heavily on the sofa with a grunt. Nikki stood in the center of the dimly lit room for a moment, looking around at the nicely kept house. Mick stared up at him, watching as he turned to examine the furniture and pictures he had already seen many times before. He knew what breed of fear was running through the boy's head, just not what had caused it, and waited in silence for his friend to remember that he could trust him. Nikki wiped at his mouth, then finally followed Mick's lead to sit next to him on the couch.

The guitarist held his arm out offering him a water. Nikki took it, but only set it in his lap, twisting it around in his hands.

They sat in silence for a few minutes, Mick facing forward to stare at his black TV. Nikki watching the floor.

"You didn't relapse, did you?" The older man finally asked softly, angling his body so he could look at Nikki.

"Hmm? No, fuck no, it's not that..." Nikki shook his head, pulling in a sigh as his hand rubbed over his face. Mick let out a breath he didn't realize he was holding, relaxing at the knowledge that his bandmate hadn't started using again. He'd come too far- they all had. "No, I just... had a dream. Kinda fucked me up."

Mick watched him, patiently waiting for him to get to explaining it on his own time. Nikki was in no way a cry baby of any sort- if it was a dream that had him so upset that he had to come over to Mick's, then it must be really something serious that triggered him. 

"It's actually really fucking embarassing." Nikki looked away, out the window.

"I think I deserve to know, considering it was bad enough that you're over here at almost two in the morning..." Mick whispered. Nikki smirked, uneven and nervous as he kept his eyes on the shadowed trees outside.

_"I had a dream I lost you."_ His voice cracked, and Mick knew he was crying.

The guitarist said nothing, simply looking at the back of his friend's head. Nikki's grip on the water bottle grew so hard that Mick worried it would bust it apart, and he frowned at how distressed his younger friend truly was. _"Like, you fuckin' died,"_ Nikki struggled to get the words out. "I cant even remember how, but I had to fucking bury you, a-and-" he stopped there, frantically wiping at his eyes with one shaky hand. _"Fuck,"_ he whimpered, turning even further away to completely hide his face from view.

Mick was stunned. He was expecting some dark shit from Nikki, but... nothing like what his friend had admitted. Nikki was fully torn apart about a harmless dream he had, and one about losing _him_ , of all people in the guy's wild life? He swallowed, eyes darting around as Nikki started to shake with sobs, curling in on himself.

_"Nikki, it's okay-"_ it was all Mick got out before the younger man turned and lunged at him, wrapping his arms around Mick's waist and burying his face in his lap. He cried and _cried_ , choking out sobs that had been held in for much too long. Mick placed a hand on his back, rubbing circles over his shirt as he could only watch on at his friend break down. Nikki's hands gripped his sweatpants and shirt as if they were a lifeline, quivering as he fell apart at the seams.

_"I'm so fucking sorry Mick!"_ He cried out, muffled against Mick's thigh. Snot and tears formed a wet mark on them, but the guitarist didn't dare move. "I'm so sorry for all the shit I put you through! I was so fucking mean to you, for so long, you could have left any time and yet you stayed and put up with it. I was so fucked up I didn't even stop to ever think about how bad you were hurting, and how worse I made it, jesus christ!" Nikki sobbed again, rubbing his face against Mick's waist. 

Mick bit his tongue, wanting to stop Nikki right there. They both knew he had been in pain for more years than not, but he wanted Nikki to understand that that was no need for sympathy or special treatment. He had never wanted to be looked at as broken, or weak, not at any time since before they'd made Motley. He was shocked that his friend felt this bad over something so out of his control- or maybe he actually didn't and was just way too overworked and exhausted at the moment, this being the only outlet available. Nikki had always despised anything he couldn't challenge face to face; but to be so emotionally destroyed over being an ass to Mick years ago? The guitarist worried for him greatly, having no idea how to even go about comforting him.

_"I'm so sorry... you deserve so much better than us. You're a fucking god, and you're stuck with a bunch of screw ups."_ Nikki finally began to catch his breath, sucking in a snotty gasp as he adjusted his grip to hold Mick tighter. "I can't believe I let you go for all those years... I never even thought to visit you. We just... we just fucking _forgot about you_ , and you almost _died_ because we were too damn selfish to even call. It fucking haunts me every day, thinking about how close to death you were and how damn clueless I was... I'm so sorry Mick, _please never leave me-"_ Nikki moaned a cry, trying to steady his breath.

"Nikki, stop, I don't want to talk about that." Mick finally found his voice, moving his hand to hold Nikki's shoulder. He pushed on it to roll him over, and luckily his friend obeyed to turn and stare up at him with wet puffy eyes. Anxiety, fear sadness, and all their relatives spilled from them in huge tears that rolled down his cheeks, ruining his makeup even further. "I dont want you thinking like that. Forget about all of it, don't fucking feel bad about it. It wasn't your fault. It was mine, mine only. And I don't feel like talking about it tonight, alright?" Mick tried not to come off so aggressive, but he couldn't help the bit of anger that came through in his voice.

He held eye contact with Nikki, watching the want to fight back battle with the want to obey his older friend spin in the bassist's eyes.

"Mick, its fucking true," he cried.

Mick swallowed again. It looked like his hopes of Nikki just passing out for the night weren't going to happen, so he exhaled slowly before speaking again.

"I was stupid, alright? You had nothing to do with it."

"That's the problem. I left you alone and hurt, you know you would have died!"

"You're right, I would have. And I didn't care. I couldn't even take care of myself. I missed you guys more than anything in my life and I couldnt even function without you. But it's _not. Your. Fault."_

He thought he saw Nikki's lip quiver, but it was impossible to tell in the darkness.

"Don't ever blame yourself for what happened to me, okay?" He continued, voice growing softer. He moved his hand to rub Nikki's shoulder soothingly in deep, slow massages. "It was just a dream. That's all. I didn't die and I don't plan on dying any time soon, alright?" He whispered. Nikki's eyes spilled more tears, as he frowned with another silent weep. He never looked away from Mick, but his eyelids grew lower with his exhaustion. "I'm fine. 'M right here. I just got lost a little without the band, okay? But I found my way back, just like you and the other guys." His other hand ran it's fingers through Nikki's bangs, pulling through the knots. The younger boy's eyes fluttered shut, finally too heavy to keep up. Nikki sighed, wet and quivering with subsiding cries as his head fell against Mick's leg again. His lips parted in thick breaths, nose too full for any useful breathing.

Mick watched him intently, continuing his rubbing and stroking while Nikki calmed down.

_"I love you,"_ Nikki whispered against his hip.

"I know. I love you too, stupid fuck," Mick whispered. Nikki finally smiled. It was a little crooked, and he got drool on Mick's shirt, but the guitarist returned the grin. He ran his old knuckles over Nikki's forehead, brows, over his eyes, then down his cheek. The bassist turned to jelly in his lap, moaning high pitched deep in his throat as his body surrendered to the touch. He rolled over a little, exposing his throat. Mick took the hint and moved one hand to gently wrap his fingers around Nikki's neck, rubbing up and down gingerly stroking it. Nikki groaned softly, yawning deeply. Mick watched him, making sure he was relaxing for real and not just hiding it to make appease Mick. He continued rubbing his throat with one hand, and his head with the other.

"Want me to tell you how I felt after my surgery back then? Will it make you feel better?" Mick whispered. Nikki nodded, keeping his eyes shut.

Mick adjusted himself just a bit under his friends dead weight, before speaking softly as he continued petting him.

"Okay..." he sighed nervously. He hadn't really talked about his downfall after the band's breakup in at least three tears. He wasn't exactly prepared for a two AM feelings session, but that's what came with Nikki now a days. Mick would rather be kept up talking about feelings, however, than up with a drug-sick Sixx anyways. "When they first reached out to me about us getting back together, I didnt give two shits about it. I didn't expect to make it that long. I had just... given up. I was wasted away to nothing. I couldn't even fucking walk right. Couldn't play anymore. I didn't want anyone to see me, to see how I failed."

Nikki opened his mouth to butt in, but Mick gently covered it with one of his hands before he could speak. Nikki obeyed, closing his mouth and placing a quick kiss to Mick's fingers before the guitarist returned his hand to his hair.

"If it hadn't been for your persistent asking... I don't think I ever would have agreed to have surgery. I didn't think there was any hope for me, but... I think you gave me just enough to do it. And I'm glad you did." Mick looked down at his friend to stare deep into his sad eyes in the shadows, and Nikki gazed back. "And when I got out of surgery, I still didn't think I could do it. But again, you asked me to. That little bit of hope grew like a fire afterwards. Kinda sad that the most alive I had felt in years, was when I was at my worst in a hospital full of stitches." Mick smirked lazily. He closed his eyes as he continued.

"I'm so glad you kept at me... when I finally got out and went to the hotel to see you guys, I hadn't felt so alive in ages. I was terrified, though. I looked like shit. Felt like even more shit, physically and emotionally. I was a skeleton stumbling around that couldn't function semi-properly without pain killers. I was so embarrassed that I'd let myself get that bad. That this fucking disease had finally gotten the best of me. But when I heard your voice on the phone that first time... I had a fucking reason to live again. All I could think about was the fans, a roaring crowd, making music with you guys... I had a real reason to get myself better again." Mick couldnt help the yawn that escaped him, Nikki following shortly after. He ran his hands through Nikki's long hair, repeating the motion over and over until his friend's grip on him loosened a little more.

"And I'll be honest, Nikki; I was terrified of what you would think of me when you found out I couldn't even play anymore. I was anxious out of my mind, but I just had to do it. And I guess I did, huh?" Nikki finally smiled, small but pure and untainted by all his negative emotions. "When I first saw you guys that day at the photoshoot, it was probably both the best and the worst day of my life. I had wanted nothing more than to come back to life and be with Motley again, but I just knew how horrible I looked. I was terrified of what the fans were going to say, how I would sound, how you guys would treat me... But it wasn't so bad. It was pretty damn good actually, if I must say." He smiled, trailing off in a gentle whisper. Nikki smiled wider, turning his head to kiss Mick's hand that had found his cheek.

_"I'm so fuckin' glad you let us help you, Mick. And I'm forever sorry that we let you get that bad to begin with..."_ Nikki spoke softly.

_"You didnt let me, I did."_ Mick wished he could bend down to kiss his cheek, but settled for brining one of Nikki's hands up to his mouth to kiss his knuckles. "And I'm okay now. I'm good. I've been there and back." Nikki sighed, long and deep as he held Mick's hand back. They looked each other in the eyes again, each exhausted and on the verge of passing out.

_"I love you, old man,"_ Nikki breathed.

Mick smiled against his friend's hand.

"Let's go to bed, I think that's enough crying for one night." Mick finally let go of Nikki, softly patting his side.

Nikki didn't get up right away, remaining watching him closely with shy eyes.

"Can I go to your bed? With you?" He pleaded sweetly.

Mick thought about it, but already knew the answer.

"Of course, come on."

Nikki pulled himself up with a groan, holding a hand out to help Mick off the couch. He followed the guitarist closely to the bedroom, letting Mick climb in bed first. It pained him to watch his friend have to stiffly lay down and scoot himself into a comfortable spot, but he said nothing and forced himself to relax the best he could. His jacket, pants, shoes, and socks were discarded quickly as he jumped under the covers with Mick. He scooted over to plaster himself against his friend, draping an arm and leg over him. Mick remained still on his back as Nikki got comfortable before speaking.

"Shirt, but no underwear?"

"I never wear underwear," Nikki grinned, nuzzling against Mick's neck and hair. His arm and leg tightened their hold, as if scared they would be pushed away. Mick could feel Nikki's frantic heartbeat race in his chest with how close he was, so he gently rubbed the the arm currently wrapped around his torso. Nikki pushed his hips forward against Mick's ever so slightly. _"And you're so soft and warm,"_ he cooed into his ear.

Mick groaned deeply in his throat, already feeling himself falling asleep once more for the night. He was suddenly much too tired to really give a fuck about Nikki's half naked body plastered to his side rubbing up against him.

And that was how he fell asleep; his fingers stroking Nikki's forearm until they eventually came to a stop as he slipped into slumber.

Nikki, despite how much he had cried and how long he'd been up, was still wide awake at his side. He focused on Mick's chest rising and falling over and over in steady breaths. He opened his hand against his shirt so his fingers could feel his heartbeat- strong and even. His own heart finally began to slow down, the anxiety within him leaking out like steam. 

The silence of the house sat as heavy as the darkness; moonlight pouring in through the window casting a blue glow on both of them. It was a perfect night to stay up writing music, Nikki thought. He remembered nights like this when he'd be up until the sun rose, writing down all the pain he didnt know how to handle. He remembered how the paper and needles would go hand in hand, tormented thoughts of fury and drunkenness fueling entire albums worth of songs.

He didnt know how he did it. But he was glad he did.

_What would be different if he had sought comfort in Mick more often back then, he wondered?_

He pressed his nose against Mick's neck and sucked in a quiet breath to smell him. He smelled like he always did; like a home that wasn't a house. Nikki never wanted to forget it. He smiled against Mick's soft skin as he dropped his face to hide in his friend's long hair.

He wanted to wake Mick up to tell him he loved him, just in case anything happened in the night... but quickly decided against it. Mick deserved rest. He deserved everything he never got for the past three decades. Nikki had bothered him enough for one day; he was too old to be woken up so late just because his friend couldn't handle his fucking feelings with two hands.

He tried drifting off into sleep as well, but his mind was tormented with memories of 2004, when he saw Mick for the first time in years.

_Days. He would have died in days, he said._

Nikki bit his lip in attempt to anchor his spinning mind. A dizzy spell hit him suddenly, and he debated for a moment getting up to go sit in the bathroom, but forced himself to remain at Mick's side. He sucked in another breath through his nose, smelling the sheets, his hair, his shirt, his skin.

Mick was okay; he was more than okay. He was the best he could be. They had rocked on tour, made new music; the only thing that had changed was how they looked and how sober they were. They were only getting stronger, Mick especially. But Nikki still couldn't tame the burning anxiety within him... He supposed his breakdown had been a long time coming, just now realizing as he held Mick close that his regret and worry the past few years had never been let out. He rubbed his forehead against Mick's pillow, begging for his frantic mind to relax and just fall asleep. Mick shifted in his slumber, fingers twitching against Nikki's arm as his leg trapped between Nikki's thighs moved to bend slightly. The bassist kept still, counting his older friend's breaths to anchor himself.

_Maybe he should just get up and leave;_ he really had no right to just bust into Mick's life at all hours of the night, forcing him to put up with his shit. He was a grown man, and Mick didn't deserve to be tormented like this. Nikki gripped a fist full of Mick's shirt as his mind reeled, wondering how pissed Mick actually was inside at him... He was so wise and humble- of course he'd never let it be known outloud how irritated he actually was at Nikki's childish needs. Hell, even when his evil fucking girlfriends would cheat and beat on him, he never fought back. Part of Nikki was glad he was so doped out back then, because if anyone laid a hand on his guitarist now? He'd fucking rip their _throat_ out.

And Nikki knew that if he did leave- if he did flee into the night once more, slipping away into the shadows- Mick would never say a word. He would see him at the next get together, and never mention it unless Nikki did.

He was the most loyal person Nikki had ever fucking known.

The bassist slowly wiped at his eyes with his other hand, not realizing the tears that had been running down his nose in silent cries dripping onto the bed. His then reached out to rest the back of his fingers against Mick's neck, twisting a lock of hair between them.

_One, two, three, four,_ he counted again. Slow and perfectly even, Mick breathed under his arm.

It was some time after three in the morning, when the moon had moved across the window, that Nikki finally drifted off.


	2. We're Okay

Ten hours passed until Nikki awoke to bright, midday sunlight draping over him. His body felt a thousand pounds, one leg bent up against his stomach and the other stretched out behind him. He thought he had dreamed about running down a beach with someone, that then turned into him smashing his bass into an amp, but all memory of it was gone in an instant. Thick blankets and sheets lay over him, and Nikki thought that was a little weird because he never slept under the covers... His bedroom window blinds were also never opened all the way, especially not in the morning...

It was when he was in the middle of stretching out that it hit him.

He was in Mick's bed.

He had gone to Mick's house in the midst of a mental breakdown over the idea of losing his friend after a night of horrid nightmares.

He'd gone to bed half naked with Mick.

Mick was currently not in the bed with him.

_"Oh, fuck,"_ he whispered to himself, sitting up and ignoring the black spots in his vision to stare at the clock next to the bed. It took four seconds for the time to register in his brain- 1:25 PM.

_Shit._ He hadn't slept in that late in a few months; he'd been doing pretty good at regulating his sleep schedule since the tour ended.

He jumped up, pulled his shorts on, and walked out into the hall. He could hear the TV playing the closer he got to the living room, giving comfort to his racing heart. He stood in the entrance when he arrived, but Mick was nowhere to be seen. The couch where they'd sat last night was vacant, the TV running for no one. One of Mick's strats rested on the coffee table next to a glass of tea, currently in the process of being re-stringed. Nikki admired the set up, feeling a warm wave of admiring adoration wash over him at such a domestic sight. The curtains of the huge windows were drawn, allowing the summer sun of California to fill the gorgeous room. It warmed Nikki up to his core for the first time in days.

Over the sound of the television he heard movement in the kitchen. He walked there a little too fast, stopping in the doorway when he saw Mick going about his business of sliding a large peel into the oven to pull out a magnificent homemade pizza, placing it on the stove. He shut the oven, wiped his hands on his black pants, and turned to the sink before noticing his friend watching him across the room.

"There you are, I was about to go wake you up for lunch," he grinned, washing his hands in the sink. He didn't have a hat on, Nikki realized surprisingly, letting his bangs fall free over his forehead. A wide grin exposed his teeth as he stood over the sink- the sight of it alone was enough to make Nikki's heart skip a beat.

"Shit, yeah, sorry I slept so long... I didn't mean to just barge in on your life and fuckin' take your bed over halfway through the night," Nikki tried a laugh but failed miserably, instead looking away nervously to the food. The smell of the pizza hit him like a wall, and he stared at it with a watering mouth. His stomach vibrated, suddenly painfully starving.

"Well, food's ready, grab a plate," Mick ordered softly. Nikki obeyed, knowing exactly where everything was as the two danced around each other to serve up quite possibly the best lunch Nikki had laid eyes upon all month.

They were seated back on the couch in no time, watching some show about fixing motorcycles that made him miss his Harley. He was sure Mick missed his too, but the guitarist didn't seem to be bothered by it if so.

He wished he was as strong as Mick sometimes. The man was a legend, built of iron from the inside out. An entire life of betrayal, drugs, crime, and chronic pain, all to end years later in a stiff neck and useless back. But there he was, back to shredding guitar rewriting the laws of music for the world to hear. The man Nikki met in '81 was both an entirely different and all the same person that he knew now...

"Stop staring at me." Mick's tease snapped Nikki from his daydream, not realizing he'd been gazing blankly at him for the past minute. Mick didn't look at him- couldn't really- and how he had seen Nikki watching him through the corner of his vision past his hair, was a mystery to the bass player. But he smiled anyways, finishing his pizza and taking both their plates to the sink.

He washed them, dried them, and put them back in the cabinet.

He returned to Mick on the sofa, who was now leaned forward finishing his work on stringing the strat.

"Thanks man, that was the best thing I've eaten all fucking year," Nikki stretched out in his seat, yawning loudly.

"I doubt that," Nikki couldn't see his face from the wall of black hair hanging over his shoulders, but but it sounded like Mick was smiling, which made him smile.

A few minutes passed of silence between them, save for the television, as Nikki watched in awe his friend's old fingers work. They gingerly ran each string through the bridge, pulling one by one up to the pegs. He pushed them through, cut the excess he knew he wouldn't need after years of experience, and twisted to tune. Over and over in flawless motions as Nikki zoned out watching him work, listening to the strings whine as they were pulled through the holes. He didn't need to work fast, like Nikki had seen some players do just to look badass and end up snapping strings the next day. He knew what he was doing- that's what he loved about Mick. He'd earned every ounce of skill that he obtained; Nikki wished he had listened to his heart more than his ego in past years like his friend had.

Eventually Mick finished, pulling the instrument to rest in his lap as he strummed a quick silent tune.

"Nice..." Nikki whispered with a grin.

Mick hummed in agreement.

"Hey, I'm really sorry about last night, for real..." Nikki's smile was short lived as it was pulled down with the sadness left in the aftermath of the last night. "I really feel bad. I think I just get so protective of people, you especially... It's like... I've fuckin' lost everyone else in my life, I'd go on a damn murder spree if anything ever happened to you-"

"Its okay," Mick cut his rambling off softly, turning his body slightly to look Nikki in the eyes. "Don't apologize for being scared, Nikki. We've been through a fucking lot. I understand."

Mick always did.

Nikki looked at him deeply with all his raw emotion. No more words were needed after that; the corner of his mouth pulled up in a shy smirk as he hung his head to hide it.

Mick reached his arm out to put his hand in Nikki's hair, slowly rubbing his head and combing his fingers softly through his mane. Nikki exhaled deeply, instantly calmed at the affectionate touch. He couldn't imagine a day where he couldn't get this, so he tried not to.

Mick stood after a few seconds with a sigh- Nikki whining at the lost touch- to go hang the strat on a guitar rack towards the back of the room.

"We should jam out some time," Nikki suggested with a change of topic, watching him from over the back of the couch. Mick rearranged some of his few guitars that stayed out of the studio on the display, debating if he wanted to change out another one.

"You're always welcome over, you know that. Just ask, I'll be here."

Fuck, Nikki couldn't handle his sweetness sometimes. He looked out the window, fearing the endless feelings he may admit if he kept watching Mick.  
The older man decided to let the rest be, and sat back down. He leaned back with a groan, lifting one arm to hold the back of the couch near his head.  
Nikki looked at him a little more. He took in all his tattoos that he knew by heart, hoping his would age as well as Mick's had. He looked at his long raven hair framing his face that reached far past his shoulders. He remembered how he had to cut it shorter after his surgery years ago, how thin and unkempt it looked, and was glad he'd decided to let it get long again. Mick's arms had nicely thickened out again as well, along with his torso and waist. No one would have ever guessed that just four years ago he'd been a sickly ghost shoved backwards through the wringer.

Mick was okay. Nikki's dream was already fading away; he still got that burning sense of panic in his gut each time he thought about it, but it was passing... He was okay. They were both okay. They would be okay forever, no matter what.

Nikki grinned, running a hand through his wild hair again, and looked back out the window. It was an insanely nice day out; he should really head home and get back to his own life... But part of him wanted nothing more than to stay at Mick's side. And it was just a little bit stronger than the want to leave- so there he stayed.

"Wanna head to the studio and see what we can come up with? Get your mind off some shit?" Oh, Mick's voice sang like angels in his ears.

_"That, Mick Mars, is the best idea I've heard all fucking month."_


End file.
